


redamancy

by FluffyRobi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Mario Kart, Other, SemiShira Week, alcohol mention, prompt: games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 08:25:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7260025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyRobi/pseuds/FluffyRobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>redamancy - the act of loving in return</i><br/>Eita's down. Kenjirou smiles and makes it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	redamancy

Kenjirou knew it had been a long day for his datemate when Eita all but flung himself onto the couch, a groan erupting from his throat as he sprawled out.  
“How was work?” Kenjirou asked, shifting so that Eita could put his head in Kenjirou’s lap.  
Eita merely groaned again, pressing his face into his boyfriend’s thigh. “Who knew that posing could be so hard? I have to resist the urge to shove that camera up my manager’s ass half the time.”  
Kenjirou gave a small chuckle, playing with Eita’s hair as the other started mumbling about how awful his manager was.  
“Did you get anything cute?” Kenjirou asked when Eita finally paused. “Last time you had a bad day, Kuriko-san let you take home the set you were modeling.”  
“No, not today. I didn’t even get paid; they’re going to lump it into my next check.”  
Kenjirou sighed; the lingerie Eita modeled was always fancy enough to make the day all better. It looked like he’d have to cheer up his datemate by himself.  
(It honestly wouldn’t be too hard. Kenjirou found that Eita liked to smile, after two weeks of living together.)  
Kenjirou chuckled, leaning down to press a tiny kiss to Eita’s temple. “We should do something else, then. Kawanishi finally returned our copy Mario Kart, if you want to see if we can beat his records.”  
Competition always got Eita’s blood boiling, and nothing was better than a little rivalry.  
The model looked up, eyes wide.  
“Get the wine?”  
“Really, Eita?” Kenjirou sighed with a frown, “Does Mario Kart really need _alcohol_?”  
(Kenjirou had gotten too far with stopping Eita’s alcohol problem to let it be washed away by this-)  
“It’s just a _glass_ , Shirabu. I’m not going to get drunk; I’m keeping my promises.”  
It was hard not to give in when Eita was pouting, so Kenjirou got up with a rather exaggerated grumble and went to the kitchen- _how the hell did Eita find anything with how big his god damn house was? Rich people,_ Kenjirou thought to himself bitterly. He poured two glasses of wine for them. Usually, Kenjirou didn’t drink, but it was always better to make sure Eita didn’t feel singled out.  
It was a little gross to think of how well he knew Eita’s patterns.  
From the kitchen, Kenjirou could hear his datemate set up the Wii. Every now and then there would be a _clank_ and Kenjirou was reminded that Eita had absolutely no idea how to deal with technology.  
“I call the WiiU!” he called, chuckling when Eita replied, “when don’t you?”

After they decided that they also wanted snacks and proceeded to make a bag of popcorn and open two bags of donuts- Eita and his damn tastes- the two finally settled down on the flowery couch. Kenjirou used this time to make a quip on his datemate’s sense of decor.  
“Flower couches, Eita? I didn’t know you were a grandmother-”  
“Shut up, Shirabu, or else I’ll shove the WiiU up your ass.”  
“How come all of your threats involve things up my ass when you’re usually the one taking it?”  
“Listen, bitch.”

The game powered up and they each chose their mains; Kenjirou chose Daisy and Eita, Rosaline.

Kenjirou knew his datemate was a competitive piece of shit. Eita had been that way since the two of them met in high school. He knew he should’ve expected the way Eita would try to distract him, especially with wine in his system.  
They had done almost two courses when Eita was a giggling mess, moving into Kenjirou’s lap in a last-ditch attempt to beat him. It didn’t work, of course, and Kenjirou once again passed the finish line first. Eita was still laughing when he was pulled up for a victory kiss, the two of them huffing against each other’s lips for a few seconds before Kenjirou pulled away to give his datemate an amused look.  
“You should’ve gone to Nohebi with how dirty you play!” Kenjirou teased.  
Eita stuck his tongue out. “Bite me.”  
“I would if I knew you weren’t into that.”  
“What are you saying! That’s all the more reason! Shirabu- shut up, stop laughing!”

They called it quits when Kenjirou realised he couldn’t see over the top of Eita’s head; the model hadn’t left his boyfriend’s lap at all. It was a bit bothersome that a few centimeters of a height difference could give Eita an advantage and at least win two races.  
(Not to mention neither of them really felt like overly greasy food and barely touched the popcorn and donuts during the game. Kenjirou could feel his stomach growl and decided it was time for dinner.)  
Eita leaned against the kitchen counter, watching his boyfriend move around the room as he cooked. Kenjirou glanced over every now and then to catch the model with the same fond expression each time.  
After a while, Kenjirou couldn’t help it and put the spatula down, turning to Eita.  
“Do I have something on my face?” he asked curiously.  
Eita shook his head, a tiny smile on his lips. “Mn-nh.”  
“Then why are you staring at me?”  
The model was quiet for a few moments, leaving the kitchen silent except for the tiny ambiance of sizzling fish fillets.  
“I love you,” Eita eventually said, just as Kenjirou was about to continue cooking.  
“Wha-”  
“I love you!” he repeated, cutting his boyfriend off, “I love you a lot. Fuck off.”  
Once again quiet fell upon the two until Kenjirou let out a breathy chuckle.  
“You can’t even say that you love me without insulting me, huh? That’s so typical of you.”  
Eita narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. He crossed his arms as he looked away, suddenly finding something interesting on the kitchen floor.  
If Kenjirou didn’t know any better, he’d think that Eita was antsy. His foot was tapping, his shoulders flexing, his eyes darting.  
It was kind of cute.

“Eita. I love you too.”


End file.
